


His Favorite

by SatisfactionBroughtItBack42



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Apparently I'm like the only person in the world into this ship, Artagan is... Artagan, Choking kink?????? Maybe???? Not really tho, Dubious Archfey acts slightly dubiously, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Like v v soft, Meant to write smut but ended up with not smut but it just be like that some times, Nobody gets choked out don't worry, Not smut but boy does it feel like it, Not too sure if Artagan is the good guy here but boy I do want him to be, That convo between Fjord and Beau at the end of ep. 96 made me have some Thots, This ain't smut but I'm just gonna say SoftDom!Artagan in case, soft tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatisfactionBroughtItBack42/pseuds/SatisfactionBroughtItBack42
Summary: Beau and Fjord get into a fight with Jester over the Traveler, saying they don't trust him. It ends badly, with Fjord and Beau storming out of the Xhorhaus, leaving Jester alone in her bed on the verge of tears. Needing some to talk to who understands, she calls out to the Traveler, asking for guidance from her oldest and truest friend - and perhaps getting a little more than that as well. Inspired by the conversation between Fjord and Beau at the end of 96, but without any spoilers.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Artagan, Jester Lavorre/The Traveler
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	His Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired based on the convo Fjord and Beau had at the end of ep. 96, but without any spoilers. I haven't written fanfic in 10 years, but I had an idea, and it really saddens me that there's barely any fic of these two.

“Traveler?” Jester calls our softly, almost whispering, sitting perched on her bed in the Xhorhaus with her knees up to her chin and her arms tightly wound across her legs. She pauses, waiting, holding her breath, _praying_ , the beginnings of tears welling in her eyes. Her throat beginning to feel so tight, so ragged, anticipating the burgeoning teardrops threatening to stream down her face.

She’s alone. She’s all alone. Nobody’s home but her. Yasha, Caduceus, Nott and Caleb are our visiting Essek, it’s their housekeeper’s day off, and Fjord and Beau - Fjord and Beau. “I know you’re busy with Travelercon and everything, but - _please_. Like we used to?” She looks up to the heavens, her voice now shaky, as those threatening tears now fall one by one, crashing down with reckless abandon against her will.

She waits, and waits, and waits, a full minute of waiting, hoping, silently begging - and puts her hands over her face and begins to simply sob. And just as the first heave of sorrow wracks her frame, a familiar flash of green appears behind her, over her shoulder.

“ _Dearest_ -“ His dulcet voice crones in her ear, and a rush of warmth spreads through her, as she leans back into his solid frame, letting his comforting arms wrap around her. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner - now, _who do I have to kill for doing this to you_ , hm?” His charming, causal yet fierce tone makes her smile, and she almost wants to chuckle, but she holds it in.

“Please don’t kill them - that would only make me sadder.” She says quietly.

“Oh, but they must pay, whoever they are - I won’t let anyone treat my favorite like _this_.” The tips of his finger go to her chin, and she moves her hands away from her face, shifting slightly to look back to him. It’s so nice to finally be able to see his face. Jester thinks to herself. “Who are they, and what did they do?”

Jester sighs. “You know Fjord? And Beau? Right?”

Artagan nods. “I’m aware.” “Well, they - they’re just-“ a stray tear falls down her cheek, and Artagan dabs it away with the pad of his thumb, making Jester’s cheeks flush violet and her breath get caught in her throat momentarily. “We got into a fight. Not a fist fight, or like a fight like we all normally are in, like combat or anything - just, you know. An emotional one.”

Artagan takes a deep breath, and collects his thoughts. _I knew those two would be trouble_. “And what happened in this emotional fight? What was it about?”

Jester looks in his eyes, his _captivating_ eyes, and she’s struck by how alien they seem, black and green working in tandem to create such a dizzying yet expressive window to his soul, one filled with concern, tinged with a little bit of anger. They almost scare her, that little glimmer of fury, and she worries for a moment that it’s at her, that he’s angry with her, and that’s the real reason he didn’t come at first, and that it’s _her fault, her fault, her fault_ -

And then, he pets her hair, slowly, methodically, a smile on his face, and runs his fingers through her navy locks, sweetly, warmly, and that blush comes to her face again, and that giddy, burning feeling in the pit of stomach curls through her once more, and it’s alright again. “I’m here, Jester - I’m here.” His thumb runs idly on her chin, and his eyes soften.

Jester takes a deep breath, and nods slightly. “You’re here.” She says under her breath.

“In the flesh.” He flashes her his most charming of grins, his teeth so brilliant and white - sharp, almost.

Jester does chuckle at that. She pauses, and wipes away at the tear stains on her cheeks. “We got into an argument. It was - it was over you.” Artagan takes a deep breath, his head falling slightly, as he tries to collect himself. “What did they say?”

“They said - well, they said that they don’t - that they don’t trust you. And that they… well… they don’t… trust you with me.”

Artagan squares his jaw, and does his best to seethe quietly. _How dare they, these minuscule, puny mortals! And to make his Jester, his sweet, sweet little favorite agonize over their shortsightedness and wrong assumptions - how dare they?!_ His smile falters, and he sighs slightly, before turning back to look at his disciple. “You know that I - that I wouldn’t _dare_ \- ever do anything untoward to you, right?”

Jester smiles through her tears. “That’s what I told them. That they’re wrong, and that you wouldn’t ever hurt me, and that you’d never even dream of it, because I’m your favorite, and your best cleric, and you love me so much, right?”

Artagan beams, despite himself - _that’s my Jester_. He leans close to her, and kisses her forehead, soft, and slow, lingering, burying his lithe fingers in her silky hair.

That pit of warmth in Jester’s belly erupts, spitting molten fire up to her chest, spreading through body, thrumming in her veins, causing her heart to stutter and stammer in her wake. _He’s here. He’s really here._

Artagan smiles against her forehead. “You are my favorite. My little seed of chaos.” He pulls back, to look deep in her unusual lavender eyes, so crystalline and beautiful - they simply pull him in, against his better judgement. “You know, Jester - when you’ve lived as long as I have, you know a lot of people. And each one of them keep a different space in your life, in your mind, and in your heart - but they never stay long. Their lives are simply too short in comparison. But I’ve known a lot of people - and out of all of them, there’s only been one who I can really - talk to.” Jester’s smile widens. “This little blue tiefling girl, who knocked me off my feet with her radiant energy, her brilliant pranks, her sage wisdom and insight beyond her years - and her unabashed beauty. Only one. And she’s my favorite.” He takes his pointer finger, and playfully boops her on her button nose. She blushes a bruising purple, a trickle of tinkling laughter burbling out of her pretty mouth in response. “And I vowed myself to protect her. And look after her. And grant her the tools to realize her inner brilliance. And I trust her completely.”

“Really?” She looks up at him with wonder in her eyes, once more brimming with tears, but now with tears of happiness instead.

“Do you doubt it?” He ruffles her hair slightly, moving his hand to cup her cheek.

“I trust you.” Jester says softly.

Artagan leans closer, emboldened, his forehead resting against hers. “Really?”

Feeling the tendrils of warmth pulse through her veins, and perhaps feeling emboldened herself, she wraps her arms around his graceful, swan-like neck. “Do you doubt it?” She echos back to him.

_Fuck it._ Artagan grips her skull in his hands, and tightens his grip in her hair and on her cheek, and kisses her, _finally_.

His kiss is wild - a bruising, heated, passionate, chaotic kiss, beyond all of Jester’s greatest fantasies, greater than anything she’s ever read in her smut books - oh, she feels as though she could burst, as he captures her bottom lip with his, begging, _praying_ for her to grant him access. She opens her mouth to his, and greedy for her, he swipes his tongue across the inside of her bottom lip, sending a thunder wave of sparks in his wake. She sighs into him, her hands winding themselves in his wild, fiery mane, as she nibbles on his lips, causing him to let out and deep moan from within his chest. _I did that_ , Jester’s heart swells with pride, _he really does love me!_

Artagan pulls back, breaking the kiss, prompting a breathy whine from Jester that makes his cold heart swell. His hand behind her neck shifts slightly, moving forward a bit, his thumb resting at the hollow of her throat. An urge arises in him, an old urge that he thought he had satiated, deemed unsatisfactory - he stares at the hollow of her throat. _Wouldn’t your band just look so pretty there? Wrapped around? Guiding it?_ “Those two - they simply don’t understand us. They don’t understand what we have. They’re merely jealous.” His thumb digs in _ever so slightly_ , applying the lightest of pressure, causing Jester’s breath to go shallow, her heart racing in her ears.

“They are?” Her voice is so thin, barely even there, almost too overwhelmed to speak.

“ _They are_.” Artagan’s head dips down, gingerly kissing where her jaw meets her neck, causing Jester’s breath to stutter through her mouth. “They want what we have, dearest - I’ve seen it.” He kisses the column of her throat, increasing the pressure of his thumb, squeezing ever so slightly, easing her into the sensation.

_They do?_ Jester thinks to herself - she thinks of Fjord, and how she’s pined and yearned for him, only to never have him look her way, and treat her callously during their time at sea with Avantica, and the heartache she endured at his actions with her - and Beau, her dear friend, who she could turn to for anything, but who laughed at her ‘real’ name, who yelled at her so loudly earlier, who disrespected her God, who tried to pull her away from him - _they want to be here? In his place?_

“ _They do_ ,” Artagan whispers against her neck, answering her silent question. “but they can’t have what we have, can they Jester? They can’t replace me, can they?” He croons against her neck, the vibration of his speech causing her to pleasantly sigh.

“ _No_.” She whispers, her voice already ragged, that warmth pooling low, low, as she goes slightly limp in his embrace. Her breath becomes quick and labored, his hand on her neck nearly searing her skin, and causing such a delightful dizziness, even the smallest of pressures causing her head to become slightly foggy.

He grins wolfishly against her skin, his hand around her throat beginning to squeeze _just_ a tad bit more, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make the effect be known, as his other hand goes towards her luscious hips, caressing her soft flesh through the layers of clothing. “ _No_ , they can’t - we’re connected, you and I - bound together by my gift to you, your magic, given by me - you’ve raised me up, and I’ve in turn raised you - they can’t begin to understand that, my dearest, my acolyte - _my favorite_.” He swoops in, claiming her lips once more, and digs his thumb into the base of her throat harder, her grip on her hair increasing manifold, his lips attacking hers, and she whimpers, and keens beneath him, her tail thrashing about, winding its way up his arms, holding him hand to her around her throat in place, begging, _begging_ -

Before he pulls back, releasing him thumb from her neck, bringing air rushing back to her lungs, causing her to gasp instinctually. Her pretty little face is pure violet, pure adoration, eagerness, lustful for something she doesn’t even yet understand - and he smiles at her, softly, proud of her, of his little acolyte, his little Cleric, so eager to please - but not quite ready _yet_.

He runs his hands through her hair, stroking it’s silky texture, petting her still. He presses a soft, chaste kiss against her forehead, lingering, mulling over the consequences of what he just did. He’s doomed, he realizes - this little tiefling has completely enraptured him. He hasn’t felt quite like this in… well, _ever_. _Not like this, anyways._ “That’s a good girl.” He whispers into her hair. She sighs happily, leaning into him, as his arms wrap completely around her, embracing her, _hugging_ her - how long has it been since he’s _hugged_ someone? Artagan rubs circles with him thumbs against her back. “They don’t have to understand, Jester - they only have to respect you, respect your choices, and respect your power - and where it comes from. And if they can’t do that - then I’m sorry, because they don’t deserve you.”

Jester nods against his chest, feeling heard, and feeling - feeling _loved_. “Thank you, Traveler.”

“Call me by my name, dearest.” He says, a tinge of selfishness coming through, his pride seeping in, hungry for his name on her lips -

“Thank you, _Artagan_.”

He hums his satisfaction against her hair. He can get used to that - his name on her lips. “Good. Now - you’ve had quite an exhausting day. You should rest, darling - a little nap never hurt anyone.”

“Artagan?” Jester looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“Yes, dearest?”

“… Will you stay with me? Just this time? I - I don’t want to be alone right now.” Jester looks down at her lap.

Artagan smiles, laying her down on the bed, and resting her on his chest. “For you, Jester - anything.”


End file.
